‘What do you want?’ Georgie says, as the waitress departs.
‘That’s rather unwelcoming,’ I say. ‘And bold, considering you get your groceries and grope in the same weekly shopping trip. Saves on petrol, I suppose.’
Her face crumples. ‘Does Stephen know you’re here?’ she says as if in control, but there’s a layer of sweat on her upper lip already.
‘I think it’s better to keep men out of business deals, don’t you? They tend to get emotional,’ I say, and hold her gaze.
She stares. Her blue eyes are less beautiful than they once were. They have a watery quality now, no doubt from too much pleading.
‘I don’t think there’s anything to discuss, actually. Love is love. It finds a way, doesn’t it?’ she says, falling back on her PR training, but I sense it’s only skin deep. A prod with a fork would puncture her.
‘You’re fucking my husband. Don’t you think that merits a conversation?’
‘I love your husband. He loves me. It’s sad that he doesn’t love you any more, but false love withers, while true love doesn’t die, it just hibernates.’ Georgie’s face brightens as she says this, which is sweet.
‘I bet he says that to all his mistresses,’ I reply, and watch her closely for any doubts, but there are none. Aristocratic confidence. I might need to increase the pressure.
‘He’s never stopped loving me. I’m sorry about that but, as you’ll remember, I was here first.’ She gives me what is, I presume, a fake sympathetic smile.
‘What he feels isn’t of any importance, Georgie. I don’t rely on emotion when dealing with important matters like love. We have a contract. You’re trying to break that contract.’
‘Just let us be together, Lalla. He would’ve left you some time ago but he didn’t want to hurt the children.’
‘How kind of him to consider his children. By my reckoning, you’ve been together on a regular basis for about twelve months.’
‘Four years,’ she says with a small smile she can’t hide.
‘Since Nathan was born?’ I say, feeling my heart sink again.
‘Just before, actually,’ she says, her smile broadening. ‘While you were heavily pregnant.’
‘Well, that shows a ruthless streak I didn’t know you had,’ I say, smiling back. The hit, though, is very real. I’ve been truly duped. It’s not jealousy or sadness I feel, it’s shame. I slip my hands beneath the table, so I can pinch myself hard while my face remains impassive and calm.
‘It’s not how I would’ve wanted it to happen. We met by chance. We had a few nights together, and then he felt it was wrong, and we stopped for a month, but the feelings we had were too strong. You can’t swim against the tide for ever.’
‘If he’s failed to leave me for four years, what makes you think he will now?’
‘The children are old enough to understand now.’
‘It’s all about the children, is it? Well, they’d be so thrilled to know Daddy is fucking some woman on the side but not leaving Mummy because he doesn’t want to be seen as a bastard.’
‘It’s not like that,’ she says.
‘He likes having his cake and eating it, that’s all. I don’t mind as long as there’s a good salary coming in and he doesn’t bring any diseases home with him, but he’s not leaving me. I absolutely forbid it.’
‘I don’t think he’s eating cake with you any more,’ she says, rather snidely.
‘Is that what he tells you? Well, believe me, he’s still got a sweet tooth.’
‘I don’t believe you. He’s told you he wants a divorce,’ says Georgie, glancing nervously at the other tables.
‘That’s what these men say for years and years, but do they actually leave?’ I stand up. I’m talking so loud now that the waiters start to confer on the best course of action.
‘Let’s be civilized,’ she says.
‘You’re being misled. So I’m going to set out your options. Option 1, you leave him, and I don’t harm you. Option 2, you carry on, and I do harm you.’
‘You can’t threaten me, Lalla. We’re not animals,’ says Georgie. She picks up her coat and places it across her lap. ‘I love him. You split us up once. I’m not losing him again. Everything’s planned already. The house. The wedding.’
